Take Me
by EverythingHappensEventually
Summary: He stared into her eyes. They showed more then just fear, they showed terror. Distress. A haunting sadness. "Don't.. you, you don't have to do this." His voice was weak.."Someone has to pay, Agent Booth. She has to pay."
1. Take Me

**Take Me.**

He stared into her eyes. They showed more then just fear, they showed terror. Distress. A haunting sadness.

"Don't.. you, you don't have to do this." His voice was weak as he dragged his focus towards the side of her face, up to her temple, and followed the shaft of the gun that rested there to the rough calloused fingers that rested on the trigger.

His eyes finally met those of the man with the weapon, and when he looked into them he saw nothing. This terrified him.

"Someone has to pay, Agent Booth. She has to pay. Without her, I never would have been caught."

Booth shook his head slowly, tears stinging the back of his eyes threatening to crash down his face. His hands quaked briefly, before he cleared his throat quietly and mentally stabled them. He held his own gun outward, aiming for the assailant's forehead.

"Someone has to pay," the man said again, stroking the gun down the doctors face and over her mouth briefly before bringing it back to her temple. She whimpered, and Booth was sure his heart was breaking at the sound and sight of her.

Booth knew the man was dangerous. He knew Edwards had killed many before and that it meant nothing to him. He was right, without Bones he never would have been caught. He was deranged, sick, and after years of homicide, they had him. The evidence they had collected against him the past couple months was overwhelming, but it seemed like he wasn't going down without a fight. He briefly questioned what drove him to come over to her apartment so late. He thanked God that he had gotten here when he did, and that he just so happened to walk in on this scene. He prayed for the strength to solve this. He prayed for the protection of his best friend.

"I'm not going down alone." Edwards whispered, as if he was reading Booth's mind. His eyes pierced the FBI agent and Booth thought for sure he was going to be physically sick.

"Look, this is nothing right now." Booth responded, trying to fight his emotions and regain his FBI composure. He couldn't get a clear shot without risking Bones' life. A situation without 100% certainty was unacceptable.

"Right now.. " he continued, "lower the weapon, and leave, Edwards. We all get to walk away, no one saw anything."

The man laughed a disgusting diluted laugh, "we both know I am not walking out of here, Agent."

Booth stole a glimpse at his partner, then back to the man with the gun. "Yes. Yes you are. Put down the gun, and we all leave. No one gets hurt."

"If I lower this weapon," he pushed it more firmly against the doctors skin, "you will shoot me."

The gesture that made Booths stomach knot and jump into his chest.

"No. You drop it, and you leave. Thats a promise."

"You first." Was the only response he got.

He looked at his partner, her eyes said 'no.' But they darted back to Edwards when he tightened his grip on the gun.

"Agent Booth.. " he said, near whisper. "I am not a patient man, Agent Booth."

He couldn't think. He didn't have a clear shot. She was going to die here tonight, in front of him. Everything was blurry and slow and loud at the same time. He couldn't focus. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't risk it. Not with her. He couldn't bare to witness this, to be a driving factor, to live without her.

"Okay. Okay." He finally said, lowering the gun with one shaky hand, the other hand extended in the air, palm forward.

"Booth no!" Brennan almost yelled, startling Edwards to put his free hand around the front of her neck.

"Bones! Shut up! Shut up!" Booth yelled, staring into her eyes. He didn't want those to be the last words to her, but he was terrified for her safety. If she died here tonight, he was certain they would both stop living.

"...There. There.." he pushed the gun slowly over to Edwards with his foot, both hands in the air now. "Now.. Let her go."

Edwards smiled, placing a foot over the retrieved weapon. "Agent Booth, you are not as smart as I was led to believe. I suppose what they say is true. Love does make you stupid." He responded, tightening his grasp around her neck and causing her tears to fall harder while barely audible sounds escaped her throat. "Isn't that true, Agent Booth? That love makes you stupid?"

Booth fought himself in his mind. He was an idiot. He had been had, and his partner's life was coming to an end because of it.

"Tell me, agent Booth. Tell me it makes you stupid."

"It-it makes you stupid. It makes you stupid!" He was panicking, his heart was beating faster than he would have thought possible. He stared into her eyes. Hers seemed to say it was okay. His said he was sorry. He couldn't fight him, he would pull the trigger. He couldn't fight him for the gun, he would shoot her. He would killer her. She would die. Panic struck him again, harder this time.

"Tell me you love her." Edwards said again, a cynical smile playing accross his face.

"I love her! I love her! Edwards come on! We had a deal!" He yelled.

"Someone still has to pay, agent Booth. Love or not. Stupidity or not. Someone will pay." Edwards voice sounded bitter as it filled the air.

"No! This doesn't have to happen!" Booth yelled, his body language pleeding with the man.

"For every action, there is an equal.."

"No! Don't do this Edwards, you can leave! Take this chance! You are a free man! Let her go! **Please**!" He yelled again, he was certain he was going to throw up or have a heart attack or just cease existing any second now. Edwards was escalating and he had no way to stop him.

"Someone has to pay.. someone has to pay.." Edwards murmured over and over again, biting his lower lip slightly.

Booth watched as his finger began to tighten on the trigger.

"**ME**!" Booth screamed, tears now running down his face, he even risked taking a step closer to the man, palms still outstretched.

Edwards released his grip slightly on the gun, turning his attention to the Agent.

"Take me! Make _me_ pay!" He yelled again, and during his surprise at this outburst Edwards released Brennan's neck slightly.

"Booth! **NO**!" She cried once she had the air.

"DAMMIT BONES _SHUT UP_! Shoot me Edwards.** SHOOT ME**!" He yelled again, slamming his fist into his chest for emphasis.

"**BOOTH! NO!**" Brennan yelled again, struggling against Edwards grasp,

"FUCK BONES BE QUIET! Come on Edwards. It's me! Shoot me and walk out of here. Leave her alone!"

"Oh agent Booth, we both know I was never walking out of here.." he smiled slightly, firing two quick shots into the Agents chest before turning the gun on his own temple and firing again, falling lifeless to the floor.

xxxx

Review with your feedback and I will post again tonight!

~EHE


	2. Worth It

Some have asked, and yes this is set in season 6 at the present time (sometime after Doctor in the Photo)  
Thank you so much for all your kind reviews!

**Worth It**

He knew he was hit before he felt the pain. The heat of a bullet, not unfamiliar to him, spread from his chest to his extremities, his hairs stood on end, his mouth dried instantly, and his world blurred. He crashed to the floor when his knees buckled, and he rolled to his back. He stared at the ceiling tiles in her apartment, as they faded from a obnoxiously bright shade of white to darker shades of grey, back to white again. Everything was quiet, and he breathed shallow, trying to swallow the difficult lump that had formed in his throat.

xxx

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. They say that everything that matters, everything you love screams past you, almost teasing you, mocking you of the life you once had. The life you were leaving.

Well, its not true.

There wasn't flashbacks of his birthdays, Pops making him grilled cheese, or the friends he made in the Army. He didn't see Cam, or Hodgins, or Angela or Rebecca. Hell, he didn't even see Hannah. To be honest, he didn't really see Bones either.

No, your life doesn't pass by in front of your eyes. You do not get to visually relive the special moments, the moments that made you who you are. He didn't see anything at all really, but he sure as hell felt it.

All at once, it seems, she crashed over him. Every aspect of her flooded his senses, and he felt the warmth of her smile. He felt her throaty laugh, the laugh she gave when something was really too humorous or when she thought her attempt at sarcasm was especially witty. The laugh vibrated his spine and tugged a smile at the corner of his eyes. He felt the way her sheer presence for the last five years made his heart swell, and his stomach knot in the best possible way. He could smell her shampoo, and taste the tequila on her tongue the first night they kissed. He felt the soft skin of her hand in his as they danced at her reunion, her body swaying closely to him. He felt her sob into his chest when she was afraid or hurt, leaving his tee-shirt damp and her cheeks hot. He felt every guy hug. Every 'atta girl. The sadness of the night at the Hoover, and that same night the way her lips accepted his before she pushed him away.

xxxx

"BOOTH!" Her voice radiated through him, causing his eyes to whip open and attempt focus on her face. She hovered above him. His gentle memories gone now, replaced with a metallic taste, the smell of a discharged firearm, and a high ringing in his ears.

"The ambulance is coming, but you have to hold on!" She pushed forcefully on his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

xxxx

For the second time her hands coated all too quickly in his blood. For the second time she knelt over her partner, her best friend, bleeding out beneath her. Hot tears streamed down her face, both sadness and anger flooded her heart.

"You are an idiot! Why did you do this! You can't die!" She sobbed, yelling at him although her face was only inches away, pushing harder yet, trying to slow the blood.

He winced at the increased level of pain, grunting and coughing at the lump in his throat he could not manage to swallow. He turned his head and with another cough, blood pooling out onto the carpet below him. His vision narrowed and darkened, he felt weak and unbalanced, and everything went completely silent and black.

"Oh God," She said again, using a bloody hand to wipe at his face, realizing only afterwards that the gesture was futile. She looked down at her own hands, dripping with blood. His blood.

"Oh God," She said again, the severity of the situation crashing into her. She attempted to mentally shake it off when Booth came to at the sound of her voice and tried to get up. He tried to push her away, but he was weak, and she forced him to the ground again. He was going into shock, he was in pain, he was confused, and he didn't have much time.

"Booth. Stay still." She held his chin, "Look at me." His eyes wandered around her apartment, as if he was trying to figure out where he was. "Look at me dammit!"

His eyes focussed on hers finally, his panicking body relaxing slightly when her face registered again.

"It's going to be okay, everything will be okay." She said quickly, her words spilling out from her mouth, although she didn't believe them. She was trying to be reassuring for him, but when his breath became shaky and his pupils dilated, any faith she held in compartmentalization was lost.

"Oh God, why did you do this! There is so much blood, I can't stop it. Booth! Why did you do this! You should have let me die!" She sobbed, frantically trying to stop his bleeding.

He swallowed hard.

"Bones.." He said, frowning at the pain, aware of the situation again, and what was about to happen. His voice was raspy and wavering, and sounded foreign even to himself.

"No. Don't talk! You don't get to do this. You cannot put me through this again!"

He stuttered again, trying so desperately to get his message across, grasping at her hands on his chest with his own.

"NO! Don't do this Booth! You don't get to give up! You don't get to leave me!"

He squeezed her hand tightly, as tightly as his strength would allow.

"Why the **fuck** did you do this! I hate you for this!" She sobbed again, lowering her forehead to his. She knew he had lost too much blood. She could feel his pulse weakening, she knew it was too late although she could see the reflection of red and white lights flashing through her apartment windows.

He closed his eyes at the contact. He felt himself drifting again, as if he was falling slowly under dark water.

"W..Worth it.." he finally whispered, his voice seemingly very far away.

xxxxx

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	3. One, Two, Three

**One, Two, Three..One, Two, Three..**

Paramedics burst into the room, and the scene before them was shocking even to the most experienced and senior worker.

She knelt beside him, administering CPR frantically. She was coated in blood, and sweat, and tears. She looked, in all descriptive terms, broken. She was grasping to his life, trying to hold on although they could already tell that he was desperately trying to let go.

There was a large amount of blood pooled beneath him, too much blood. From the looks of it, about two or three liters. Without even inspecting him yet, they knew exactly what had happened. His heart had already struggled to continue circulating the three, maybe four liters of blood he had left. It had beat hard and fast trying so hard to distribute enough blood to disperse oxygen to his body. They could tell it had failed by the color of his skin. It now hardly beat at all, irregular, quiet, slow. They saw this in the limpness of his limbs. His closed eyes, his relaxed face. He laid all too still and quiet on the ground. Blood had stopped seeping out from his wounds at a drastic speed, and this was a bad sign.

A few feet away was another body, clearly deceased and horrifying in appearance. Half of his face was demolished, a gun fallen to the floor beside him. Scenarios on what could have happened began to race through the medic's mind.

"Don't just fucking stand there, do something!" She yelled in their direction, quickly returning her concentration back to her partner.

"one, two, three... one two three.."

Her CPR methods were accurate, but the paramedics figured they were too late, it was all for nothing.

"Back away," one said, gently giving her a nudge to take over the procedure so the other could examine the body.

"No!" She yelled, fighting them to stay close, "One, two, three.. One, two.."

"If you do not back away, he doesn't have any chance at all! We have to get him out of here!"

She slowly crept backwards, still on her knees, dragging handprints of blood across the carpet with her, never taking her eyes off of him.

They worked quickly, muttering medical jargon to each other that in any other context she would have understood perfectly. But right now, in this situation, her mind was off. She felt a sadness she didn't know possible. She felt as if she was dying herself. She couldn't deal with this. She couldn't go through this again.

She thought about the regrets she held. She thought about how much she loved him, and how idiotic it was that it only took him moving on or him dying to fully realize it.

He was her partner,

her better half.

Her best friend.

She thought about all the moments they were never going to have. The arguments that wouldn't take place between them, the drinks that they wouldn't meet up for, the cases they wouldn't solve. The dances they wouldn't have, the laughs they wouldn't share. Her eyes watered at this. And Parker, sweet Parker. He was just a boy, and she had been there. She had lost her parents before.

She cried softly for him, her emotions overpowering her momentarily as her world came back into focus when Booth was being wheeled out, one paramedic holding an IV suspended in the air by his head.

"Are you coming? We cannot wait. He needs treatment immediately, there is only one exit wound."

"What?" She frowned, the entire situation replaying over and over in her mind. She looked over to where Edwards had been lying, they had covered his body in a sheet. It oddly made her feel slightly better, as if it didn't really happen.

"We have to go! Right now!"

The other paramedic listened closely to Booth's face, "unequal breath sounds, his left lung has collapsed! Lets move!"

And with that they were gone, her door was left ajar and seconds later she heard the sirens drift away into the distance.

She sat still for a few minutes, considering life and death. Considering Booth's faith.

_His God would make sure he was okay. He was a good man. He would save him.  
He has to save him. He has to be saved. He has to live. I cannot do this. I hate him for this. How can he do this to me.  
It should be me.  
I should be dead.  
I should be dead.  
He risked everything, he will loose everything, because of me.  
How do I move on with this? How do I live after this. How do I live without him.. _

Some time had passed, and she called Angela, not knowing what else to do in the late hour.

"H..Hello?" Angela answered groggily, after the fourth ring, but to no response.

"Bren?"

A quick intake of breath on the other end of the connection, "What is wrong?" She sat up in bed now, scared, nudging her husband awake.

"I need you to come over. Call Sweets and the police." The doctor finally said, before hanging up.

xxx


	4. It's Her

Thank you so much for your kind reviews! My inbox is full and happy with your feedback!  
All your questions on his safety should be answered in the next two posts, so sit tight - its coming!  
Also, if you keep reviewing as much as you are, I will continue to post at least once a day. :) ~ EHE

**It's Her.**

Her extended family crept slowly down the hall towards the doctors apartment. They could tell the door was open, but nothing would prepare them for what laid inside.

"Oh God," Angela muttered, stepping slowly inside, her hands coming to cover her mouth. She scanned the apartment, its usually tidy and organized features laid in disarray, blood seemingly everywhere.

Her eyes fell on her friend, her hair was disheveled, her eyes red and wet. She sat quietly in the living room, slumped shoulders with her chin in her hands.

She was covered in blood. It had dried in drips down her hands and forearms. It streaked her face, it soaked her clothes. She didn't seem to notice when Angela, Hodgins, and Sweets let themselves in.

"Dr. B!" Hodgins yelled, scrambling over to her, checking her chest and stomach for wounds. "Where are you hurt?" He asked loudly, frantically trying to find the source of the bleeding. She shook her head slowly, grabbing his hands which were palpitating her stomach. "It's not mine." She answered quietly, her eyes searching his.

He swallowed hard, looking back at his wife who stood motionless, crying at the sight in front of her a few feet away, then over to the psychologist, who looked as if he was about to throw up.

His eyes finally rested on the sheet covered body.

"Please.." he asked, looking back at her, eyes watering, "please tell me that isn't Gman."

"It is not Booth." She answered, stumbling slightly over speaking his name.

The three visitors let out a collective sigh before she continued.

"The paramedics took him." She said coldly, and Angela came to sit beside her. Their silence urged her to continue.

"Edwards. He was here when I got home. He planned to kill me, he was vengeful. B..Booth came in, and there was a confrontation. He.. he begged Edwards to shoot him. He pleaded with him to shoot him, kill him, instead of me. And he did."

Angela choked out a sob, "Booth is dead?" She asked, gripping one of her friends bloody hands tightly.

"Not yet, I do not think." She said, even more coldly than before. She was trying to smother her feelings, she was certain if she allowed herself to feel them, that she herself would die. She did not know how to deal with this, not again.

xxx

The police had come and gone, taking evidence, photos, and Edwards body with them. Caroline had come and walked Dr. Brennan through all of it as her lawyer. Because they had enough evidence on Edwards already, and Brennan was a trusted and long time worker with the FBI, her story was not questioned.

xxx

Brennan stood in her bathroom, staring into the mirror blankly. She hated herself.

She sighed and shook her head, trying to forget that her partner was close to death and there was nothing she could do. She desperately wanted to be close to him, but at the same time, she felt as if she couldn't get far enough away.

Angela knocked lightly on the door, "Sweetie, are you alright?"

Brennan didn't look at her, she just stared at the blood being rinsed from her skin.

"Ange.." She finally said, softly. "Could.. could you ask Sweets to come here?"

Angela frowned, but obliged, and shortly the psychologist stood behind the Doctor in the mirror.

She brought her eyes up to meet his, sniffling back some tears, and finally wiping her hands dry.

Finally, she turned around to face him.

"He gambled, and I said no. You were right. And I told him, and he.. he's moved on. I didn't want to have regrets, but now, everything is a mess. It's my fault and I have this guilt and regret so largethat I couldn't even fathom possible before." She said bluntly.

"It's not your fault." He returned, his facial expression soft and understanding.

She shook her head slowly, fighting back tears, before she quickly hugged him, surprising them both.

He wrapped his arms around her back, and rubbed it gently.

"He is going to die." She muttered into his shoulder.

"No,you do not know that. You just feel guilty now..but you know that he chose this. He wouldn't have had it any other way." He replied, convinced of his own words. He knew that the Agent wouldn't have made it if Dr. Brennan died. It would destroy him. Sure, he was happy with Hannah, but he knew when it came down to it, the Agent's heart always lied with the forensic anthropologist, and this act really spoke to it."

"I hate psychology." She responded.

"I know." He smiled softly.

"Someone has to tell Hannah. And Rebecca, and.. Parker." She sobbed at the thought of Parker all alone.

"I know," he said again, he knew whatever he said didn't matter. She just needed someone there to listen, to understand.

"I love him." She said again, still into his shoulder, "I hate this."

Sweets sighed, "I know."

xxx

When she got to the hospital he was still in surgery, and she sat in the waiting room not talking to anyone or doing much of anything. She just sat still, enveloped by her thoughts.

_She loved him._

_She needed to be with him. _

_She couldn't do this. _

_She hated this. _

_Her heart ached to be with him, but he had found comfort with someone else. _

_With Hannah. _

_He had moved on, she was too late, she had missed her moment. _

_And now, she waited to hear if he lived or died. _

_She could never forgive herself if he died. _

_She should be in there._

_She should be operated on. _

_She should have a collapsed lung, bleeding out. _

_She would never forgive him for this. _

_She couldn't imagine a life without him. _

_She couldn't find the point anymore. _

_She was hopeless without him._

Her mind flashed back to when she was sitting here not too long ago, the last time he took a bullet for her. That day had changed everything for him, and now ironically, this day was changing everything for her. But, it was different. Last time it was almost like a subconscious act when he intercepted that bullet for her. He did it without thinking, it was a partner's instinct. This time._ This time he begged, he pleaded, he confessed his love and offered his life. She couldn't do this._

Sweets had called Hannah, and she met them at the hospital, tears in her eyes.

"What happened? Is he okay?" She asked, running up to Temperance and sitting beside her.

She didn't say anything.

Hannah's eyes drifted over the others, who only shrugged sadly.

"Temperance, what happened?" She asked again, trying to make eye contact with the doctor, but Temperance only moved her face farther away, looking up at the ceiling.

"I can't do this." She answered, standing up and starting to walk away. She turned back quickly, "I.. I'm sorry. I can't be here.. I.. tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She repeated frantically, walking faster away, almost escaping when a doctor stopped her.

"Dr. Brennan? I have an update for you." She stopped, eyeing the doctor cautiously.

"We removed the bullet from Agent Booth's scapula and repaired the internal damage. He did loose a lot of blood, but.."

She started backing away, "I'm sorry." She apologized, tears starting to fall, "I.. I can't do this.."

"But Dr. Brennan.."

"No, I .. I can't." She said, turning away finally and rushing out of the hospital.

xxx

Both Sweets and Angela approached the doctor, after seeing what had just happened.

"Doctor? You have news on Agent Booth?" Sweets asked, holding his breath, and Angela's hand. They would figure out Brennan later, right now they needed reassurance on Booth.

"Yes, uh.. yes," he re-sorted himself after the strange encounter with Dr. Brennan and turned to face the two friends.

"He is in room 3412, awake, but he seems very confused. He lost a lot of blood, he keeps asking for bones, he won't say anything else. Because of this we are keeping him under heavy observation, but you may go see him if you wish. "

Angela gave the doctor a small smile, "He asked for Bones?"

"Yes, but we don't know what it means yet. We will do some more scans to see if we can detect any brain injury we missed earlier."

"It's.. It's her. His brain is fine." Angela responded, nodding towards the now empty hallway.

xxx


	5. People Don't Do This

_You can all thank "hot4booth" for me putting up this post so soon! They reviewed all four chapters, motivating me to put up another! _

_Thanks personally to everyone who has been reviewing/story updating/author favorite-ing. I am so grateful for all of your kind words and gestures!_

_And now.. as always, onto the good part. _

xxx

**People Don't Do This**

He opened his eyes when he heard steps entering into the otherwise silent room, "Bones?" he asked, his mouth very dry.

"No, baby. It's me." Hannah responded, taking his hand and sitting beside him on the bed. He looked into her eyes, then at Angela who was standing at the end of the bed.

"Where is Bones?"

Angela crossed her arms and sighed heavily, looking to Hannah to explain the situation of Brennan running away. Lord knows she didn't want to do it.

He took their silence as bad news, and started to panic, his monitors beeping louder with the increased heart rate. "Where is she?" He said louder,  
"Is she hurt? Oh God, tell me she is safe. Tell me she is alive." His eyes teared and he rubbed roughly at them and the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"Seeley she is fine. She just had to leave, thats all. She isn't hurt." Hannah responded, a little upset that he hadn't been happy to see her.

"I just, I need to talk to her. I need to see her..See for myself, I have things I need to say." He replied, trying to get up and off the bed.

"Seeley you're joking.." She touched his shoulders gently, "No, you need to stay in bed. You just had major-"

"I need to see her!" he yelled back, sucessfully interrupting and surprising her at his volume and tone, he winced at the self inflicted pain that followed his actions.

"Ill go get her. You.. You stay here. In bed." Angela said, grateful for an excuse to leave the couple alone, there was clearly unanswered questions hanging between them.

xxx

"Brennan!" She yelled as she ran through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital, she saw the anthropologist's petite figure walking across the parking lot.

"Brennan!" She yelled louder, running up to her and grasping her by the elbow,

"What are you doing?" she asked, catching her breath.

"Ange, I have to go home. I can't be here. Just let me leave." She struggled her elbow free and started walking away again, digging in her pocket for her car key and pressing the unlock button.

"No!" Angela cut her off, grabbing the key out of her hand.

"What the hell, Angela?" She said, a little colder than she intended, "What is wrong with you?"

Angela laughed in response, "What is wrong with _me? Me?_ What the hell is wrong with _you _Temperance! I mean.. what the **fuck **are you doing leaving him right now. He was ready to give his fucking life for you and now you are just leaving him? Get your head out of your ass and stop being so selfish. Suck it up and don't run for once." She replied, practically spitting the words at her best friend, who stood in shock,

"Booth is okay?" She asked, quietly.

"Yes. He is asking for you, and only you."

"He's Okay." She repeated, heavily sighing a greatful breath. "He shouldn't have done that, he has Hannah there to comfort him..and any information he needs he can attain through the FBI."

"Jesus, Bren! He wants _you_. Personally. This isn't a work thing. This isn't a comfort thing. He loves you. For God's sake the man has extensive wounds, 3 liters of donor blood coursing through his veins, and hours of surgery under his belt and he is worried about _you _and _your _safety_. _He needs you there. I mean, how dense do you have to be? He took a bullet for you, multiple bullets! He was willing to give his life for you to have yours, what more proof do you need?"

"I see it! Okay! I know! I don't need any more proof, I got the fucking signal." She grabbed her keys from her friend and started marching to her car, only getting the door part way open before Angela slammed it shut on her,

"So what is the problem?" She asked, her voice raised.

"Everything, Ange! Everything is the problem. _He _is the problem. I love him in ways I never thought possible. That is terrifying for me! Don't you understand? I do not know what I am doing! I.. I cannot work with him anymore. I cannot be around him. I cannot risk his life, or his heart. Or mine for that matter! And Hannah is in the picture and he is happy with her. I.. I just don't know what to think. Im just terrified." She ended the sentence sadly, more softly then before.

Angela nodded, then shrugged her shoulders, "so, be afraid. But don't give up on it all yet. And stop throwing Hannah back in his face. He made a mistake, and I am pretty sure he realized it the second you were held a gun point. So don't ruin what could be over what has happened. Plus, if it is terrifying, its probably worth it." She offered her a smile, "Just.. just go talk to him. It will only devestate you both if you leave. Just.. fight every urge you have to run. Because you know what? It doesn't seem like he is going anywhere."

xxx

"Hannah I cannot deal with this right now," he said, wincing and repositioning himself on the bed, trying not to lie down on the IV's that were threaded into his skin.

"Explain to me what happened, Seeley. I deserve to know what happened. Why were you shot?" She asked, concern in her voice.

"I didn't have any choice." He sighed, "I couldn't get a clear shot of him, and he was going to.." he cleared his throat, reliving the recent events was difficult for him, "he was going to kill Bones. I had to do something. So, I offered him a trade. My life in exchage for the safety of hers."

She shook her head, standing up and pacing around the room. "No.. People don't do this!"

"We're partners. It's what partners do, you are there for each other. We've been through a lot, more than you could ever know."

"'Partners' doesn't mean that you sacrifice yourself! You could have died!" She replied, raising her voice even louder. "This is more than just _partners, _Seeley. This is insane."

"Love makes you insane. Love makes you stupid." He said, quietly and almost under his breath, thinking back to what Edwards had said to him,

_"Love really does make you stupid... Tell me you love her."_

"_I love her! I love her! We had a deal!"_

He shook his head, trying to will the memories away and stay in the present.

He looked into the eyes of his girlfriend, who obviously had heard him, " You love her." She said, more as a statement then a question.

He sat silent, this was a conversation he knew he would be having for a while now, but he always thought that his relationship with Hannah would fizzle out. He never expected an actual 'breakup.' Part of that was wishful thinking.

"I've been blind. I've ignored the way you look at her, the way you perk up when she is around or the way you constantly are touching her arms, her back, brushing hair out of her face..." She gathered her purse and jacket,

"I'm going to go." She stopped at the door, looking at him, he only sat silent. He didn't know what to say.

She laughed sarcastically at this.

"Whats so funny?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"You take bullets for her. You would give her your life, metaphorically and literally. When you wake up and she isnt there, even after a major surgery you attempt to get out of bed and chase her down. When it comes to me, you won't even argue for me to stay." She smiled at this, if only to fight back her own tears, "I've been an idiot." she finally said, walking out the door - slamming it behind her.

xxx

See you in the next chapter, it is up to all of you readers for when it is posted! If you demand, I will deliver!

~EHE


	6. But Here You Are

Thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts!

I was swamped with work over the past two days,

which is why this chapter is coming at you a little

slower than usuall. Hope you enjoy it, and as

always, send your feedback my way.

Thanks again, EHE.

**But Here You Are**

He closed his eyes once she left, letting his head rest back heavy on the pillow, and breathed slowly.

He was in incredible pain physically, and emotional turmoil even more so.. the painkillers seemed to be helping with at least one of those things though, as he felt himself drifting away.

_I can't loose her. She has to understand that Hannah was only a diversion. That I loved her. I will always love her. I love her despite her claim that love is just a chemical imbalance. I have to explain how much it hurt me when she told me that she didn't want regrets that night. How it crushed my heart when she said "No" in front of the Hoover. How I was certain I lost her when the gravedigger had her burried, and how I was positive that I could never feel as happy as I did in my coma dream. She has to know that she is beautiful, my best friend, my standard. She will always be the standard.._

xxx

She opened the door to his room slowly, noticing he had fallen asleep, and shut it just as delicately, trying to avoid the noisy **click** when it confirmed it was completely closed.

She studied him and he looked tired, in every way. He looked as if he had collapsed in bed, his face was showing some new wrinkles and a few deeper frown lines, and under his eyes laid darker half moons. She gathered that she hadn't really looked at him, as in _really_ looked at him, in the way she used to. In the way she would study his every movement, watching every muscle in his jaw and forehead, arround his eyes work to create a smile. The way his eyes narrowed when she would ramble about something too scientific for him, or the way his eyelids fell heavy when he drunk tequila. She hadn't noticed him in quite some time. Not since Hannah had shown up at the diner once they were back in DC. It hurt her too much, too look at him the way she once did, but looking at him now, it was apparent that their time apart was just as hard on him as it was on her.

She wondered if he laid awake at night, sleepless, tossing, turning, swearing at the clock and watching the time rush by, as she had.  
She wondered if he had lost his appetite, forgotten to eat for days, and found himself putting everything into his work. Spending too much time at the office, too much time behind a desk, or behind his gun.  
She hoped he had smiled much more than she had these past few months. That he was able to still find things humorous, that he still danced arround when a song came on that he enjoyed, and that he laughed loudly without apprehension.  
She wished desperately that she could undo her decision to leave to Maluku. She wished she had given them a chance. She wished she was a gambler.  
She wanted to say "yes" to him that night, and she almost did, she allowed her lips to accept his briefly, her fingers fisted his jacket, drawing him into her for only a moment. Then, the moment ended and she couldn't fight rationality or logic or risk any longer and she had pushed him away.  
For over seven months she had regreted that action.  
_I don't want to have regrets._

She walked over to the side of his bed, grabbing his chart from the foot of it on her way. She sat down beside him and read through it quickly, her eyes stinging with tears as she did.

_Oh God, Booth. _She thought.

_I hate that I'm the reason you are here. _

_I hate that because of me, you had a collapsed lung and bullet fragments removed from your scapula. I hate that some of your ribs are broken, that you were bleeding and dieing and now hurt and bruised. I wish I could take the pain away. I wish it was me. _

She sighed, standing to leave, and placed the chart on the chair.

At the door, she gave in. She walked to the side of his bed, and careful not to wake him, she held his hand gently. _Just a moment,_ she thought, _then I will leave, and let him rest.  
_She just wanted to feel close to him.  
And she did. And along with that closeness, came fear.

_Feel scared, and do it anyways.  
If you're terrified, it's probably worth it. _She thought, repeating Angela's words in her mind.

With that she held her breath, for a second both literally and metaphorically, and lifted the covers gently, pausing to ensure she didn't wake him when he stirred briefly, climbing into bed with him. She gambled. She took the risk. She took a chance.  
She snuggled onto his chest, making sure to not put pressure on any of his injuries, and breathed the scent of him deeply while snaking her arm around his stomach.  
She felt warm and full next to him, as if she had always laid at his side. And, in a contradiction that could only exist in love, she felt both afraid and completely safe as she fell asleep alongside her partner.

xxx

His eyelids fluttered some time after she had fallen asleep, the scent of her shampoo waking him up. It was recognizable and comforting to him, and closing his eyes again, as if he was in a dream he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer and breathing her deeper. He didn't want to wake up from this, not yet.

Many of his mornings started like this. In the strange state that wasn't quite sleep, but was definately not awake, he could swear he would feel her body next to him, hear her breathing softly.  
He would imagine kissing the top of her head.  
He would smell her shampoo, taste her lips, and soon they would be making love.  
Making love, that is, until the alarm clock screemed at him to wake up, his phone started vibrating off the end table, the sun poured in over his eyes, or Hannah stirred in bed.  
Then he would be jolted back into his reality.  
His favorite part of the day were those moments in between dream and his real life, and he always loathed when they ended.

"Booth?" She whispered,

"Mmmhm," He responded, kissing the top of her forehead, without thinking. As if he had done it for years. As if it was part of their routine when waking up in the morning, as if he was in that blissful state and he only had seconds to grasp before Hacker called or the alarm beeped and it all ended.

"I'm mad at you."  
_Well, thats not part of it. _His eyes opened, and his surroundings came into focus. The hospital, the machines beeping faintly in the background, a slightly uncomfortable bed, and his beautiful partner laying beside him. The warmth of her body against his, the smell of her shampoo, it was real this time.

"For kissing you?" He asked, closing his eyes again. Reveling in the bliss that his reality was becoming. Her eyes remained closed, making the conversation feel much more intimate. She breathed softly.

"No." She responded, "For you begging to be shot. That was stupid of you."

"Why? You're alive, arn't you?" He traced his fingers up and down her back softly, absentmindedly. Having her there felt amazing, natural. He was enveloped in love.

"Of course I am, and because.. You could have died, and it would have been my fault." Her voice was quiet and husky, her breath slowed even more as his hands dragged up and down her spine through the thin fabric of her teeshirt.

"I didn't, and it wouldn't. " He said equally quiet, kissing her again, lingering his lips longer in her hairline.

"You shouldn't be kissing me," she sighed, "you have a girlfriend."

He pulled away slowly, opening his eyes now to meet hers. "By that logic you shouldn't be laying in my bed." He gave her a little grin, "but here you are."

"You want me to leave?" She frowned slightly, resting up on one of her elbows and looking down at him.

"No, not at all." He smiled, closing his eyes again and holding her tightly. "Things ended with Hannah anyway."

She rested her head back on his chest,

"Because of me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." She said sincerely.

"Don't be," he said, bringing his lips down to drag softly against hers, "I'm not." He kissed her passionately, but slowly, and relaxed when he felt her apprehension melt away as she moved closer into him.

xxx

I will be posting tomorrow, so look for another chapter then!

~EHE


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